


good (dead) old friends

by bukkunmoonsin (bukkunkun)



Category: Heneral Luna (2015)
Genre: Fluff, Jealousy, M/M, Misunderstandings, Oblivious Pole
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2015-11-15
Packaged: 2018-05-01 17:23:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5214386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bukkunkun/pseuds/bukkunmoonsin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jealous!Emilio interrogates Oblivious!Apolinario about old friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	good (dead) old friends

**Author's Note:**

> [original post here.](http://bukkun-moonsin.tumblr.com/post/130608826293/good-dead-old-friends)

“You were friends?”

“What?”

The warmth of that afternoon was palpable even through the walls of the Palace, and the sunlight streamed in through the windows, hot and yellow against the translucent white curtains. The two of them had been quietly working in comfortable silence when Aguinaldo suddenly spoke.

“Andres Bonifacio. You two were acquainted?”

Mabini looked at his President side-eye, and realised he was reading an old pamphlet.

“Is that my…?”

“The two of you were in  _La Liga_.” Aguinaldo continued like he hadn’t spoken, and if Mabini hadn’t been looking carefully, he could  _swear_  the man was…  _pouting_? “Were you friends?”

“Ah.” Mabini frowned, and looked down at his hands thoughtfully. “We weren’t exactly… friends.”

He could have sworn Aguinaldo choked, and Mabini had to rush to hand the man a glass of water in mild panic. Aguinaldo simply looked at him, though, and held his hands securely along with the glass.

“What was the nature of your relationship, then?” he asked firmly, and Mabini blinked slowly.

“Strictly… professional?” he replied slowly, confused. “Miong, what’s gotten into you?”

“Are you sure it was just that?” he asked uneasily, and he looked it, queasy at what? The thought that he and Bonifacio spent some nights alone engaged in friendly debates about reformism or revolution, or how he and Bonifacio used to talk about what they wanted to come of the nation over a glass of rum and the smell of cigars on the balcony of a house, away from a party?

“Well, not entirely. We spent some nights together—Miong!” Mabini scolded the man, when his grip tightened, and the water in the glass threatened to spill. “Settle down!”

“Do you miss him?”

Mabini didn’t understand where this line of questioning was supposed to go. He knew he could answer almost everything Aguinaldo asked him, but this was just downright confusing.

“Well, he’s dead. I don’t think anything I would say would matter.”

Aguinaldo regarded him for a long time.

“Do you ever… regret his death?”

“Yes.” He answered with finality, and Aguinaldo flinched, but he didn’t comment on it. “He was a born leader. Gifted. He would have been of great help during this war.”

“Do you regret anything else?”

“Not very many, no.” he replied. “Andres was an interesting man, with many goals and ambitions for the Philippines—but that was all he was, now that he’s dead. There’s no use in dwelling over the past.”

Aguinaldo lowered his and Mabini’s hands, and set the glass on the table safely, but their hands didn’t move from it.

“Pole.” Aguinaldo sighed. “I…”

“The fact that Andres and I knew each other seems to be disturbing you terribly. What’s wrong with me knowing him? We spent many hours talking about ideals and the state of the nation, but that was it. We weren’t best friends—” And at that, Mabini looked off to the side, and Aguinaldo barely heard him mutter something that sounded like Emilio Jacinto’s name. “But we  _had_  some moments together.”

Aguinaldo looked relieved, for some reason, and Mabini made a mental note to investigate it later. “I think I’ve somehow settled your fears. Whatever they were.”

“Perhaps.” Aguinaldo patted his hand. “Let’s get back to work.”

And that they did, and if either of them noticed their knees brushing more often, or their hands ghosting over each other’s, then neither of them said a word.


End file.
